


Nimble Fingers

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Exhibitionism, Fantasizing, Flirty Language, Happy Ending, Inappropriate Erections, Invisibility Cloak (Harry Potter), M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Masturbation, Nudity, Orgasm, Peeping, Quidditch Player Draco Malfoy, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Voyeurism, showering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26630176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Draco is happily masturbating in the showers after Quidditch practice when he gets a surprising visitor.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 118
Collections: A Bouquet for a Bird





	Nimble Fingers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kristinabird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristinabird/gifts).



> Happy birthday Kristinabird and many more happy returns of the day xxxx

“Bloody good game, Malfoy,” Murkoff called out, dismounting from his Nimbus as it hovered close to the ground. “Potter nearly had you at the end though!”

Draco snorted. “You need to work on your eyesight spells,” he replied, sweeping a sweaty lock of hair away from his forehead. “Golden boy wasn’t even _close_. Even at school I always had the more nimble fingers.” He stripped off his leather gloves. “I could best him anytime.”

The Appleby Beater grinned at Draco’s bragging. Draco knew the truth was slightly different, but it didn’t hurt to keep up appearances. The rivalry between Malfoy and Potter, joint first-pick Seekers for their Quidditch team, was the stuff of legends and the cause of much intrigue and gossip. “Good practice anyway,” Murkoff replied, getting out his wand. “I’m going to make a move Malfoy, get home to see the kids before they go to bed. See you on Tuesday.”

With a flick of his wand, Murkoff spun around, apparating away and Draco slipped into the changing room. That was the wonderful part of having so many older wizards on his team. Most of them were married with a house full of young wix that they were anxious to get back to. That suited Draco down to the ground. He enjoyed a proper shower after training and he enjoyed them alone the best. He couldn’t abide going home stinking like the mud and sweat of the pitch so post-practice showers were a must. A Scourgify – the go-to of many of the other players – simply didn’t do it for him. Magic didn’t get you properly clean the way that Muggle soap and water did. 

The problem, of course, was the way that his body automatically reacted to the innocent sight of his teammates standing beneath their shower-head, soap suds rolling slowly over their shiny, silky flesh… Draco bit his lip. His penis was already perking up with interest at the naughty direction his thoughts were taking and it really wouldn’t do. 

It wasn’t that Draco was in the closet, not at all. Draco’s teammates all knew full well that Draco was gay: the wizard had been out and proud since the year after the War and not a single one of them had an issue about it. He still worried though: his teammates might treat him differently if the evidence of his natural attraction was stood, proud and erect for the whole room to witness. 

As he entered the changing room, Draco tried to think of the most unerotic things he possibly could – House Elf’s wrinkly hands, running a dozen laps around the pitch and Professor Slughorn’s wobbly jowls – and luckily they seemed to do the trick. His growing erection wilted away. 

However, thanks be to Merlin, the changing rooms were deserted. Draco stripped off his leathers and stretched his aching muscles. Potter was good for one thing at least: he’d really given him a workout as they had battled for the snitch. It was a pity that their rough and tumble games hadn’t spilled over from the sky into the bedroom. 

Harry was all lithe lines of potent muscle and Draco couldn’t help but fantasise about all the fun they could enjoy together. 

Finally naked, Draco Accio’ed his shampoo, flannel and soap and headed for the shower cubicles. He spelled the water to a delicious warmth, and stepped under the powerful torrent. He made an automatic groan of delight as the blast of water worked its magic on his painful back and shoulders. 

As he rubbed a squirt of his lemony shampoo into his hair, Draco let his thoughts wander once more. He could scarcely help himself. Musky, sweaty changing rooms had been a fundamental part of his journey to understand his own sexuality It was in the Slytherin changing rooms back at Hogwarts where Draco had first realised that he found men – and their body hair, and their beautiful pricks and their sweet sweaty smell – exactly as attractive as he did. 

Draco’s hand strayed towards his prick, the way it always did when his imaginings slid back to Harry Potter. 

The dark-haired wizard was always the star of Draco’s most private dreams. 

Draco stroked and squeezed and his cock grew hard and full as he let his mind wander freely. Potter had filled out since the War, his skinny, youthful physique now a thing of the past. Nowadays, Harry was broad, even brawny and his chest was a mat of curly hair that was almost as unruly as the hair on his head. There was a happy trail on Harry’s flat belly that led down to Quidditch leathers that were tight enough to have been painted on. 

Draco groaned, letting himself go and really getting stuck into his wanking. He was totally alone, after all; he might as well have a thoroughly good time. 

In his mind’s eye Draco could see Potter stood before him. Those green eyes of his were dark – _lust-blown_ – and those luscious lips were whispering how much he wanted – _craved_ – Draco. 

This Harry of his dreams was an alluring, beguiling sight.

Everything in the cubicle was heated and steamy. Draco threw back his head and really tugged at himself with enthusiasm. The first tendrils of heat were just beginning their relentless spread from the glans of his penis when a sudden noise, like a cough or the clearing of a throat, pulled him away from his growing pleasure. 

Draco felt horror in the pit of his stomach: he was exposed. He’d been caught! Merlin, but he thought he might even have unknowingly called out Harry’s name in his ecstasy. 

“Is there someone there?” Draco shouted out, pleased that his voice sounded a little more confident than he actually felt. “Show yourself! Where are you?”

Draco’s heart raced. The only sound in the changing room was the pulse of the shower-head and the splatter of the water hitting the tiles near his feet. Nobody answered and Draco cast his eyes from left to right. There was nobody here that he could see. He was just about to make a dive for his clothes when – to his absolute, utter horror! – Harry Potter emerged from beneath a shimmering, shining cloak of invisibility. 

Sputtering with shock, Draco looked around. There didn’t seem to be any other voyeurs at least. That was a small mercy. The blond wizard shook his head, trying to form a sentence that actually made a degree of sense. “Potter,” he managed eventually. “You double-dyed deviant! How-how _long_ have you been stood there? And- I-I have to ask- What exactly did you see?”

“ _Deviant_ is such a strong word,” Harry replied, stripping off his cloak and folding it up neatly on a chair. The man was every bit as attractive as Draco’s dreams, but far better for being real. “This is a Quidditch changing room, and I’m a Quidditch player. So are you, allegedly! It stands to reason that I might see you in the showers. To answer your question: I’ve been standing here a little while. I would have let you be, Draco but I heard you mention my name… I thought it best that I stick around after that. Wanted to know what else you’d let slip.”

Draco’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment and he turned his body away from Harry’s keen gaze. The dark-haired Seeker was letting his eyes flick all over his body shamelessly and Draco’s treacherous cock had decided – quite independently of him – that it liked that idea very much indeed. Draco wondered briefly if he had a hereto unbeknownst exhibitionist streak. Rather than wilting, Draco’s cock had decided now was the perfect time to stand to attention.

“Don’t be facetious,” Draco snarked in reply, trying to angle himself so that Harry didn’t get an eyeful of his bottom. It wasn’t easy. There really wasn’t a lot of space. “And don’t try and deny it! You were peeping on me! Why ever else would you be wearing that famous cloak of yours? It was hardly to keep out the cold!”

Harry didn’t seem bothered by Draco’s line of questioning in the slightest. “Oh, I always use it to slip away after practice,” he answered. “Gets me away from pesky _Prophet_ journos looking for their next scoop. They have me dating any of my teammates that I even look in the direction of, Draco! I always hang around until everyone had gone and then slide in here for a quick shower… Only this time, of course, it looks like you had much the same idea.”

“A plausible enough story,” Draco said, picking up his honey and lotus-blossom soap and lathering it up in his hands. Sexy, aggravating Potter wasn’t shifting so he decided that he might as well finish his shower. No point flouncing off half-bathed. “Though you and I both know you’re talking utter folderol. You were watching me shower.”

Harry just shrugged. 

“Is _that_ the term that we’re going with? From where I was standing there didn’t appear to be a lot of cleansing going on.” The dark- haired wizard paused and grinned brightly. “No, scrap that last comment, Draco: one part of your anatomy did look to be getting sparkly clean. The rest of you? Not so much. But enough of me talking. I’ll just let you get finished up… I could see that you were getting close to, shall we say, _completion_. Don’t mind me.”

Draco wasn’t having that. Potter could hop in a shower if he so wanted but he wasn’t there to put on a sexy show for the magnificent git’s entertainment. 

“My showering and hygiene practices are second to none,” Draco answered sniffily. “And now, if you don’t mind? I’m in no doubt that a wizard of your status had got a dozen places and a thousand wizards to wine and dine. I’m sure that you’ve got far better things to do than watch me.”

Harry began to undo the buttons on his Quidditch robes. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” he answered, raising an eyebrow behind those ridiculous glasses that he still wore. “Yet here I am.” Potter got to the last button and dropped the shirt on the wet, puddled floor. “And here _you_ are. You were having such a lovely time before, Draco. Seems a pity to let all that hard work go to waste.” 

With that final comment, Harry tugged off his trousers and pants and stood, gloriously starkers. He stepped into the shower beside Draco, his own cock already fully aroused and leading the way. 

Draco couldn’t help but stare at the vision in front of him. Harry was more divine than any daydream. Water coursed through his hair and ran in streams over his body. He took the soap in his big, wand calloused hands and began to masturbate, slowly and sensually. 

“Mm,” Harry murmured. “This shower wanking malarkey. It’s fun, isn’t it? I can see why you partake, Draco.”

The blond haired wizard could only gape at the sight. Even if he lived for a hundred lifetimes he couldn’t have dreamt of a sexier moment than this one. Harry’s face was soft with lust and his mouth was open just slightly. There was a pink flush high on his cheeks. He was beautiful. Draco longed to kiss and to touch, but he held back, afraid that he might somehow spoil this most longed for of moments. “I can scarcely believe that you’re here,” Draco said. 

“I can scarcely believe that you haven’t touched me yet,” Harry replied, his green eyes finding Draco’s own. “I heard what you said to Murkoff outside. Heard what you said about your nimble fingers. They’re gorgeous, Draco. Just like the rest of you.” Harry took hold of Draco’s hand and placed it firmly onto his girthy cock. “Use those nimble fingers to make me come.”

Draco couldn’t ever remember a time when he’d felt such an erotic thrill charge through his body and he thanked Merlin, Circe – any deity that might, conceivably, be listening – for bringing Potter to his cubical. He’d had his fair share of forays with other men, but not one of them had ever felt as good as Harry Potter did. The man’s cock was hot, slick and heavy and Draco’s hands slipped and slid over it, relishing the sensation of silk over steel. He wasn’t the only one having a good time. Harry seemed to be enjoying himself too. His eyes were squeezed shut and the wizard was making small, appreciative noises with every one of Draco’s strokes and squeezes. 

All of a sudden there were impatient hands on Draco’s member too. Harry seemed to have some innate, magic knowledge of every single way that Draco loved to pleasure himself and he used each and everyone. Without doubt, this was going to be a monumental climax. Excitement spiralled and coiled through his middle and Draco knew he’d explode with more force than an angry bloody Horntail. Rampant, torrential pleasure rolled though his body like a hex and he groaned loudly – uncontrollably – his orgasm building with every second that passed. 

“ _Ah!_ Isn’t this. _Mm_ … Isn’t this so much better?” Harry managed, his words rough, low and sexual. 

Each word was a hot puff of air against Draco’s skin and Harry’s warm, wet lips caressed his cheek. Draco could barely reply. He couldn’t manage words. Pure pleasure rose up inside of him, his head swimming and his vision blurred. His balls drew up and his cock pulsed, painting white strips of come on both of their bellies. He quivered and shook, drowning in the sensation as Harry followed him over the edge, burying his head deep in the crook of Draco’s neck. 

Draco held the other wizard tight; pressing wet, untidy kisses on Potter’s jaw and the thin skin of his throat. For the tiniest splinter of a second Draco even forgot that the pair of them were separate people. The water washed the two of them clean in a matter of seconds and then two of them sagged heavily into each other, Draco’s body suddenly lax and lazy with the aftershocks of his ecstasy still cascading through his veins. 

Harry leaned into him, catching his breath. He looked winded and absolutely divine. 

“Shame our first time was over so quickly,” Harry murmured, the lines next to his eyes creasing with amusement. “Next time, I’d like a bit of a date first – some of that wineing and dining you were gabbing about earlier – and hopefully a bed to sleep in afterwards. Neither of us are nineteen any more.”

Draco’s heart soared at Harry’s words. It seemed that their tryst hadn’t been a one-off. The bespectacled wizard actually wanted to see him again. His cock liked the idea rather a lot too. Sharing a bed with Harry meant the space, time and excitement of really getting to know one other without the unwanted risk of getting caught by their teammates. 

“I’d like that,” Draco replied, sounding optimistic. “I wasn’t sure that you’d had a second round in mind when you stepped in here with me.”

“Definitely,” Harry said stepping away from Draco, a pleased smile playing around the edges of his lips. “I’ve been eyeing up those nimble fingers of yours for a long while and now that I know how good they actually _feel_ , I’m not giving them up! Besides, this was just our first time and it was brilliant! Imagine how good we’ll be when we’ve had a bit of practice.”

Draco couldn’t help but grin back. 

“That sounds like a plan I can work with,” Draco agreed enthusiastically. “After all, we _are_ teammates. Used to working together. It’s like they say out on the pitch: you put in the hours and you’ll get the results.”

~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xxxx


End file.
